


Not all who wander are lost

by aimeewrites



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:14:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22388521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeewrites/pseuds/aimeewrites
Summary: sometimes life gives you a second chance - what happened in the explosion and afterwards
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 11
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

Wales, 2030

The last ten years had been clement on me. After all, I had made a conscious choice at the time, and… Although probably the most cowardly way out, it had sounded like a good idea. And I’d been very, very lucky. When I’d landed in the small free clinic in the Kenyan bush, I hadn’t thought I’d be able to stay there ten years. A flat tire had delivered me in the hands of the nuns and had accepted my help gratefully and without questions. Unbelievable in the days of the internet, but then again, this was Africa, where running water could still be seen as a luxury. As I’d got to know the nuns, I’d had the urge to confess several times – to tell them how much of a mess I’d made of my life, and what was fleeing from. But I’d never said anything – too ashamed. My choice had been conscious, but at the same time, nearly spur-of-the-moment. When I’d emerged unhurt from the bombing, it had all seemed very clear – I would disappear – better for everyone around me. After all, my children didn’t need me anymore and anyway, dead or at the other end of the world… Not much difference. Serena…Well, she had made it quite plain that she did not need me or want me. I knew she loved me – I knew I loved her – that had never been in question. But it hurt too much, like love tends to do, and… I couldn’t be with her. Because it had been my fault – I’d been the one who’d gone away. Who hadn’t tried hard enough. She was better without me. I’d have liked to see Guinevere grow up… Hell, I’d have liked to have grandchildren myself someday, but…

When Alex arrived in Nairobi, back then, before the bombing… We tried – I thought I might be able to make up for not being able to commit to her the first time. But she knew I was in love with Serena, and even though I loved her too, it wasn’t enough. Two days before the bombing, I’d told her it was over – that I hoped we could stay friends. She’d lashed out and slapped me, accusing me of breaking her heart a second time, and maybe it was that slap that sealed my fate. I had hurt too many people – Bernie Wolfe had to disappear.

Now, ten years afterwards, I knew I should have done things differently. But it was too late. And on my way back to England for the first time in a decade, I was petrified with fear. What if the charade came tumbling down? Amazingly enough, it hadn’t been that hard to get new papers. I hadn’t been the only one to find solace with the nuns – another European had a house nearby – a cranky elderly widow from Wales. I’d saved her leg when she had caught an infection and we had become friends. Turned out that Emilia Hardstone had useful friends, gained from a life as an expat – my new papers stated I was Grizelda Berenice Woolf – that was enough in Africa to make a new person of me. It was because of Emilia I was on my way back – she had died at 98 a month ago, leaving me the beneficiary of her will. She had made me promise I’d go and live in her cottage in Wales for a year… I had to keep my promise.


	2. Chapter 2

Where was I? This was not… The glare of the overhead lights… The humming noise. What? Where…

When I came to again, my head still felt like an over-inflated balloon, and my eyes couldn’t focus. I slurred something at the person who’d appeared in the room. Somehow she looked familiar – I could vaguely see short, dark hair - and yet…

The third time I woke up, I was alone – I was hooked to several monitors and from what could see on the screens, everything seemed more or less normal. I still had no idea where I was, but since I was wearing a hospital gown, I could guess easily enough that I was in one. I just didn’t know where. I tried to remember the past few days. Leaving Nairobi, check. Holding my breath at the frontiers, check. Arriving in Wales after what had seemed like an endless trip, seeing Emilia’s lawyer and getting the key to the house, check. And then… And then, an unbelievable pain and nothing. I blinked at the nurse who’d entered the room. I tried to sit up and although my words came out garbled, they did come out this time: “Where – I ? What – happened?”

“I’ll get a consultant for you, Mrs Woolf – hang on.”

“Not – Mrs – Ms…” But the nurse was already gone.

A youngish man came into the room a few minutes later, introducing himself as Mr. Holloway, a neurologist. He tried to simplify things for me but I quickly stopped him – telling him I was a surgeon made him surprisingly more voluble. So …I’d had an ischemic stroke – two days ago. I’d collapsed in the street, and that might have saved my life – or at least my brain. Passerbys had called an ambulance and I’d been transported to the nearest large A&E department. They’d an endovascular thrombectomy and according to Holloway, I had been extremely lucky, because my signs were good and the CT scan showed no permanent damage. He still hadn’t told me where I was, though. Holding that brief conversation had exhausted me and I gave up the idea of asking…

A cry of astonishment woke me up later in the day and I blinked, focusing on the person who’d come into the room. Fate had played a cruel trick on me – I didn’t need to ask where I was anymore. I knew I had changed – I’d gained weight and my hair hadn’t been dyed in years, but… The woman standing in the door frame came closer and sat heavily on the chair next to the bed. She had changed, too – matured, and her hair held a few strands of grey. But Donna was still Donna.

“I must be dreaming – that’s – that’s impossible…” she muttered. Maybe I could pretend I’d amnesia? I tried to take a deep breath and came to my senses – it was over – I was done with hiding.

“She said – Lettie – she said you’d called for someone named Serena. It didn’t make any sense, but…”

I licked my dry lips – I had to be sure. “Where are we?” I murmured.

“In Holby – new A&E wing - well, newish. I’m… In charge of the nurses now – Fletch retired. Oh – my – God… Bernie… I…”

I grabbed her hand: “Please don’t tell her – please…”

She shook her head: “Serena isn’t here anymore – she… She resigned. She never got over your death, you know? Never. She tried to go away – spent a year volunteering in Africa. And then she came back here – we’re her family.”

She was trying to keep her tone in check but I could hear the accusation.

“What happened, Bernie? They – they told us you were dead. Fuck! We held a memorial service here – I went to your funeral!”

I had a choice – I could go on lying – go on walking the coward’s way. I could say I’d been wounded, lost my memory, my identity… Or I could tell the truth. And hurt again those I’d tried to protect from.

“I’m not, obviously!”, I snapped, wincing as my biting tone rang in my sore head. “Sorry”, I added ion a softer voice. “I’m sorry- I just… I just don’t quite know what to say.”

“Bernie – I can’t not tell Serena… And Cameron… He’ll be over the moon….”

I closed my eyes in resignation – it was time to face the music. And I was so, so tired…

When I woke up again, it was the middle of the night, and a quiet one – beside the hum of the machines and a few soft footsteps, the ward was eerily silent. I wondered what Donna had done. Had she told Serena yet? Had she told Cameron? Were they going to barge in here in the morning? I didn’t know if I dreaded it or wished for it, really. After all, Donna had said Serena had never got over my death – it didn’t mean she would want to see me again. It didn’t mean she would forgive me. Maybe I could disappear again, as soon as they released me…Determined footsteps beat a tattoo on the floor and shattered the peace and quiet of the ward. The door flung open and I gulped as a figure from the past came into the room. I had never imagined seeing her again. Never let myself believe that I would get a second chance.

Serena was crying, silent tears running down her cheeks. She had stopped too far from the bed and I couldn’t reach her. I knew how it felt to lose people dear to me, I had no idea how finding them again felt. She had to be mad at me. If she didn’t say something – anything… Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she came closer and took my hand in hers. I held on for dear life and stared straight into her eyes – I owed her that much. “I’m so, so sorry, my love. So sorry.” She sealed my lips with hers and I decided explanations would wait – I would take what she offered right here and now, and if later on it went sour, I would at least have had that small piece of happiness. She unhooked the finger monitor and freed my arms, but she pined me to the bed before I could embrace her, Her hands roamed my face as if deciphering each new line and each memory. Her fingers slipped in my hair and I remembered so many other times.

“Serena… Someone could come in…”

With a last searing kiss she came to her senses, leaving me already bereft.


	3. Chapter 3

\-----

I kept my promise. I lived in the cottage a year and I plan on staying there as long as I am on this Earth. As I look at Serena sitting in the conservatory with a book in her hand, I wouldn’t be anywhere else. The hospital released me to Serena’s care the day after she burst in my room and she took me back there. I could not be left alone just yet. She never left. The explanations came later – apologies, mutual ones, anger, sorrow and apologies all over again. There was no catching up on the past, but we could still build a future. Cameron came – he was furious, but he came. Jason and Greta, in their matter-of-fact way, helped him see that rage and regret served no purpose. Guinevere is now a bright and precocious teenager – I will be part of her life. Charlotte still hasn’t forgiven me. Alex is still in Kenya, but Serena and I have written to her and she will come and visit.

We christened the bed that first night – Serena wanted me to rest and I wanted her close to me. She laid down beside me, fully clothed, and somehow we ended up naked under the covers, our bodies melding together as if we had never been apart. My fingers found the familiar places, the ones that made her purr with desire and her hands brought tears to my eyes and moisture between my legs. My breasts responded eagerly to her touch, and my skin tingled and burned with sensations long forgotten. When she entered me, I cried out and my whole body shook in rapture. That was us – just us, in the here and now – there was nothing but sharpness and sweetness, nothing but the pain of having lost and the joy of having again.


End file.
